The Magelands Epic: Storm Mage (Book 6)

by Christopher Mitchell

  ‘Look for another way out,’ cried Libby to Loryn, who nodded and rushed to the back of the shop.

  Lennox took a quick count of his squad. All there. He glanced around the small shop, noticing that all of the shelves were bare.

  ‘We need to take out those machines,’ said Cain.

  ‘You saw what happened to the others,’ said Carrie. ‘We charge that wall, we die.’

  ‘And if we don’t, we die,’ spat Cain. ‘Those imperial bastards saw us run in here. Pyre’s arse, we’re so close. Where’s the rest of the fucking army?’

  ‘Scattered in the smoke,’ said Lennox.

  Loryn re-appeared. ‘There’s a back door, boss.’

  ‘Let’s go,’ said Lennox. ‘Crossbows.’

  The squad nodded and switched their weapons. Lennox strode to the rear of the shop and through a small and empty storeroom. The back door was closed. He turned the handle. Locked. He glanced at the squad, then kicked the door down. Outside, the street was in chaos. Soldiers from the Army of Pyre were fighting a running battle with Holdings troopers. Imperials with crossbows and longbows were picking off soldiers from where they were hiding on the rooftops and uppers floors of the tall tenements. Civilians were fleeing through the smoke, or crouched in doorways. An emaciated child, her face covered in blood, wandered along the street, weeping silent tears.

  ‘Pyre’s spirit,’ whispered Libby.

  ‘Which way, boss?’ said Cain.

  Lennox tried to recall the twisted route that the squad had taken through the streets. His gut told him that the harbour was to the right, where the nest of mangonels lay.

  ‘Follow me,’ he said. ‘Stay close to the side.’

  He turned right and set off down the street, avoiding the mixed groups of fighters battling in the middle of the road. Ahead, he saw the other side of the wall that was protecting the mangonels. As he ran, the smoke cleared for a moment in the sea breeze, and the walls of the Old Town were visible for a few seconds, only fifty yards behind the stone-throwing machines.

  ‘You see that?’ shouted Cain. ‘We’re almost there. I can smell the fucking sea!’

  The squad rushed forwards. A ragged group of Holdings troopers emerged from an alley and slammed into them from the side. Carrie was thrown off her feet by the impact, as Lennox and Cain turned and began loosing their crossbows. More troopers piled out from the alley, as if they were fleeing something, and the roadside descended into chaos, with troopers and soldiers mixed. Lennox pulled his mace from his belt as the fighting closed in.

  Libby grabbed his arm. ‘Look.’

  Lennox glanced over at the mangonels. The troopers on the wall protecting the machines were all facing in the other direction, fending off an attack from that side, leaving the rest of the wall empty, Lennox caved in the helmet of a trooper opposite him and pulled back. He yelled at the squad to follow and they ripped free from the troopers and raced after him, the air thick with smoke and crossbow bolts. As they approached the wall, several of its defenders turned and saw them, and Lennox threw himself into a doorway as more bolts flew at them. The rest of the squad did the same, sheltering from the deadly hail of iron-tipped shafts. Lennox held his shield up, feeling the impact of bolt after bolt. Libby was next to him in the doorway, huddled to his left, chunks missing from her shield. Their eyes met as bolts whistled past, only inches from them.

  ‘I love you,’ she whispered.

  ‘We’re not dead yet.’

  Lennox turned back to face the mangonels, peering through the small gap between the doorway and his shield. A fire was raging in a nearby tenement, and he reached deep into his powers, feeling for the writhing, hungry flames. He raised his hand, and moved his fingers. A great gout of flame detached from the burning building and plummeted down. Lennox guided the mass of fire as it fell, pushing it across the wall and onto the throwing machines. Screams soared into the air as the mangonels took up the flames. The troopers on the wall toppled over, their uniforms on fire, their cries echoing over the roar of flames. The hail of crossbow bolts ceased.

  ‘Ha!’ yelled Cain. ’Did you fucking see that?’

  Lennox glanced back at the squad, ignoring the headache growing behind his temples. They sat in the doorway, staring at the inferno ripping through the throwing machines. Taut cords snapped like whips amid the flames, while a couple of troopers staggered from the fortification, before collapsing onto the cobbles.

  There was a great cheer from the other Army of Pyre soldiers further up the road. The remaining Holdings troopers were fleeing, and the way to the Old Town was clear.

  The squad got to their feet. Carrie was limping from an injury to her leg, but the others were in fighting condition. Lennox knelt by Carrie.

  ‘Go on,’ she said. ‘I’ll be fine.’

  Lennox nodded. Behind him, other soldiers were moving in the direction of the Old Town and the harbour, passing the smoking ruins of the mangonels. Over the tumult of noise, he heard another sound, the pounding of boots. He glanced up.

  Cain’s eyes were grim. ‘Fucking Kellach. They’re coming.’

  Before Lennox could see what he was talking about, an armoured force smashed into the lines of Army of Pyre on the road, their heights equal to the soldiers. They were fresh, and cut their way through the Army of Pyre’s ranks, their longswords flashing, their bodies protected by thick plates of steel.

  The squad readied their maces and waded into the fight, leaving Carrie alone by the doorway. With Libby on his left and Cain to his right, Lennox battled his way through the chaos. His mace connected with an imperial breastplate, making a dent the size of a melon, but the soldier remained on his feet, his sword slashing a huge piece from Lennox’s shield. Lennox left arm bent back, his wrist and elbow hammered by the blow. He heaved his mace down, breaking the soldier’s right forearm. He dropped the sword, but rammed his shield into Lennox, the boss striking his chest and sending him flying backwards onto the bloody cobbles. He jumped back to his feet, staggering, as another fresh force arrived – a company of Holdings armed with short, stabbing swords. These new troopers were racing into the fight, their speed and movement a blur. The soldiers of the Army of Pyre began to fall in increasing numbers.

  Libby pulled his arm. ‘We need to retreat, boss. There’s too many.’

  Lennox threw away the remnants of his shield, his left arm hanging stunned and useless. The imperial Kellach forces were pushing the Army of Pyre back up the road, while the new company of battle-vision troopers were ripping their flanks to pieces. A cacophony of bugle and trumpet notes rose up, adding to the wall of noise around them, and Lennox caught sight of more Kellach marching up the road, their imperial armour shining in the light of the fires.

  ‘Shit.’

  Lennox cried out to his squad to begin the retreat. Cain gave him a look of pure venom, his mace raised and bloody.

  ‘We’re less than a mile from the fucking harbour!’ he yelled.

  ‘We’ll be dead before we get there,’ Lennox said, as the squad pulled back with him. ‘I’m not throwing away the lives of the Fifth.’

  They reached the doorway where Carrie was crouching, and Loryn and Denny helped her to her feet. They half-ran, half-stumbled down the road, away from the fighting. Around them, other soldiers from the Army of Pyre were also retreating, and within seconds the retreat had turned into a rout, with every soldier fleeing as fast as they could, the imperial forces cutting them down as they ran. Lennox led the squad on, urging them to continue, as their breathing grew more ragged, and their steps more faltering. Exhaustion and pain was etched on each face as they ran, and Lennox was grateful for the thick cover of smoke that he had earlier cursed.

  There was a high whine, and Lennox’s instincts flung him to the ground as a great boulder flashed overhead. It struck a tenement block high on its flank, tearing out great chunks of masonry and wood that exploded through the air. Lennox glanced over his shoulder at his squad, who were all crouching behind him.

  ‘T
hat came from our side,’ Leisha said. ‘What the fuck are they doing?’

  ‘They’re fucking clueless,’ yelled Cain. ‘Our own generals couldn’t get laid in a brothel.’

  ‘The assault has failed,’ said Libby. ‘Our generals will have seen.’

  ‘Aye,’ said Lennox, ‘and they’re covering our retreat.’

  Another missile soared overhead, hitting a shop front twenty yards in front of them and showering glass onto the retreating soldiers on the street.

  Lennox got the squad back on their feet and they set off again through the smoke and debris. They had reached the section of the outer suburbs that was within the range of the Rahain artillery; the houses, shops and tenements all showing signs of the continual bombardment had had been going on for thirds. Everywhere he looked, he could see ragged bands of Army of Pyre, streaming back towards the breach in the great outer walls of the town. Fighting was fierce on either side of the enormous mound of rubble, and bolts were killing many of those trying to retreat. Lennox pushed on into the crowds of defeated soldiers, leading his squad towards the mound, then back up and over, leaving the smoking and burning ruins of Rainsby behind them.

  Libby rubbed ointment into Lennox’s left arm, her eyes narrow as she glanced at the dark bruises that covered his limb from wrist to shoulder. They had washed the blood, sweat and grime off of each other in the small tent the two of them shared once they had reached the regiment’s camp, on a gentle hillside four miles from the walls of Rainsby. None of the squad had spoken since returning. Lennox was unsure what to say to them. He was glad they had all made it out alive, but knew they were suffering the effects of the Army of Pyre’s first defeat in battle. Carrie’s leg was broken, and the camp’s doctor had set it with a splint, and attended to some of the other damage they had sustained.

  ‘Are you blaming yourself?’ said Libby.

  ‘We were so close.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘We’re losing this war.’

  ‘Today was a bad day,’ she said, ‘but it’s not over yet. We still hold Stretton Sands.’

  ‘Aye,’ he said, ‘though fuck knows what state it’ll be in with those bastard Sanang garrisoning the town. This was our only chance. We waited all winter to starve Rainsby out, and had to attack before the first boats got here, or it would have all been for nothing. Shit. It was all for nothing anyway.’

  Libby placed the lid onto the jar of ointment and wiped her hands on a rag.

  ‘Rest it for a few days, honey,’ she said. ‘Is it sore?’

  ‘Had worse.’

  He gazed at her. She was wearing a long shirt that had once been white, but was stained grey after so many thirds of use, and her long red hair was tied back in a pony-tail. She had her own bruises; on her arms and legs, and one across her back where a sword blow had glanced off her armour. He touched her face with his right hand, feeling the softness of her skin beneath the rough tips of his fingers.

  ‘I thought we were going to die,’ she said, ‘you know, when we were pinned against the doorway, before the mangonels went on fire.’

  He nodded.

  ‘Did you see how it happened?’ she said. ‘One second, they were fine, the next, the whole place went up in flames.’

  He bit his tongue, unsure if she had seen what he had done, and was trying to get him to admit it, or if she had missed it. Should he tell her regardless? He had kept his secret from every living soul for so long his reticence was almost instinctive, yet he loved Libby, and she loved him.

  ‘Pyre was on our side,’ she said. ‘It’s the only explanation. He saved us.’

  ‘Listen,’ he said. ‘There’s something I need to tell you.’

  She nodded, her eyes expectant.

  ‘Hey, boss!’ yelled Leisha from outside the tent. She poked her head through the entrance flap. ‘You probably want to see this.’

  Lennox crouched through the tent and went outside, Libby behind him. The rest of the squad was standing on the hillside, along with many others from the battered regiment. All eyes were on the walls of Rainsby. A great crowd of imperial troopers, both Kellach Brigdomin and Holdings, were standing on top of the massive mound of rubble where the curtain wall had been breached. They were roaring and chanting in victory, hurling abuse and defiance at the endless ranks of Rahain soldiers and the Army of Pyre encamped outside the town. A great imperial flag was being waved from the battlements, and a raucous noise of trumpets and drums echoed across the valley to where the squad stood.

  ‘Bastards,’ muttered Cain.

  ‘I can’t believe it,’ said Carrie, a crutch wedged under her shoulder. ‘We got beat.’

  ‘They kept their best back until the last minute,’ said Lennox. ‘They let us exhaust ourselves against the masses of ordinary Holdings troopers, and then hit us with all of their Kellach, and those battle-vision bastards.’

  ‘But how could we lose?’ said Loryn. ‘I thought the Creator was on our side.’

  A few glanced towards Libby.

  ‘He is on our side,’ she said. ‘We shall prevail, but no one said it was going to be easy.’

  ‘So he’s happy to watch us get slaughtered?’ said Cain, his eyes rolling.

  ‘You ignorant fool,’ she said, bristling. ‘He helped us during the battle. How else do you think those mangonels suddenly burst into flames, when there were no fires nearby? The whole squad was about to die and he saved us.’

  The soldiers glanced at each other.

  ‘It was weird, right enough,’ said Leisha. ‘I was watching. It was like flames fell from a building, then twisted through the air and hit the stone-throwers. I thought it must have been the wind.’

  ‘What a load of crap,’ said Cain. ‘There were fires everywhere. It was no miracle; just plain fucking luck.’

  Leisha turned to Lennox. ‘What do you think, boss?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘There was a lot going on, and the smoke was confusing everything. I couldn’t tell either way. Does it matter, though? We’re all alive.’

  Libby scowled at him. She opened her mouth to speak, but frowned, then crouched down and got back into their tent.

  Cain laughed.

  Lennox ignored him, and followed Libby into the tent.

  ‘Are you alright?’ he said, crouching by her as she sat.

  ‘You don’t understand, do you?’ she said. ‘I mean you say you do, but you just don’t get how important my faith is to me. The others mock it, and you say nothing. I look to you to back me up, and you say it doesn’t matter, that it’s not important.’

  ‘But…’

  ‘Don’t speak,’ she said, a tear rolling down her cheek. ‘It does matter, listen to me. It matters. Pyre is watching us; he sees everything we do, and he sees what’s truly in our hearts, and knows those that believe and love him. It breaks my heart that your faith is so shallow, if it even exists at all. I can’t bear the thought of not being with you after we die.’

  He lowered his head, unable to meet her eyes.

  ‘I struggle,’ she went on. ‘None of you see it, but even I get doubts sometimes, and on days like today I realise my faith can be fragile. How could the Creator just stand by and watch us die? How could he let the unbelievers win? Is he testing us? If he is, then what is it we need to do to pass the test? All these questions buzz round my head like biting flies, never letting me go.’

  He took her hand, and she half-smiled. ‘That’s why the miracle we witnessed was so important. Just when I thought Pyre had abandoned us, he destroyed the mangonels, and struck down the troopers who had us cornered. By doing that he proved his love for us, and he restored my faith.’

  She shook her head. ‘You and my faith are the most important things in my life, and I couldn’t bear to lose either.’

  He nodded.

  ‘Thanks for listening,’ she said. ‘I feel a bit better.’ She wiped her face. ‘Now,’ she went on, ‘you were saying you wanted to tell me something?’

  He shook his hea
d. ‘It doesn’t matter. It’s not important.’ He kissed her. ‘You are all that’s important to me.’

  Chapter 11

  Educating Thorn

  Plateau City, Imperial Plateau – 6th Day, Second Third Spring 525

  Thorn decided that Agang did, in fact, very much enjoy talking about himself. Every evening when the long train of carriages stopped for the night, she would pull out her journal and try to write down the names and events that he had talked about that day. As the convoy travelled out of Sanang and through the open hills and green valleys of the Plateau, she also realised that either the man’s memory wasn’t as good as he thought it was, or else he was being forgetfully selective with the truth on occasions.

  Agang revelled in the fact that he had once, or so he claimed, been close friends with both the Empress and the Fire Goddess, and Thorn had listened to every detail that came from his mouth. His version of Keira Kill-Kill varied considerably from the one she had heard about in her school lessons as a child; altogether more flawed, and hence far more interesting than the pious martyr that the teachers in Sanang had told her about. She could tell he was keeping some parts to himself, not just about Keira and Empress Bridget, but also concerning himself. He was a good liar, but not perfect.

  ‘I’m going to miss our chats,’ he said, as the carriage rolled along the flagstoned road, ‘what with the city being so close. I’ll be sure to mention to the Empress what a remarkable young lady you are.’

  ‘Thank you, Lord Agang,’ Thorn said, ‘but there’s really no need. I just like listening to someone who knows so much about the world. I think I’ve led an awfully sheltered life.’

  Sitting across from them, Acorn glanced at Clove, smothered a laugh and gazed out of the window. Though their travelling companions often changed from day to day, Thorn had always made sure she was in the same carriage as Agang. She had felt inhibited whenever one of the older hedgewitches had shared their carriage, especially old Bluebell, the unofficial leader of the volunteers, who would silence Thorn with a disdainful look if she talked too much. Acorn and Clove were easy to deal with in comparison. They rolled their eyes at some of Agang’s more outrageous comments, and mouthed insults at her when he wasn’t looking, but none of that bothered Thorn.